


could be the last of all the rides we take

by throwupsparkles



Series: All I want [3]
Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Angst, Idiots in Love, Infidelity, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Post-MCR
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:46:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26437414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/throwupsparkles/pseuds/throwupsparkles
Summary: “You didn’t pack a bag,” Frank says softly when he hangs up, peering over to where his own bag is sitting alone by the door. “I don’t know if that means you’re going to leave in the middle of the night or if you’re not planning on going back home.”
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way
Series: All I want [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1870072
Comments: 65
Kudos: 118





	could be the last of all the rides we take

Gerard doesn’t know what age he suddenly started feeling it. 

It’s like an airborne disease. He can’t smell it, see it, taste it-- but he feels it. Heavy on his bones and picking off layers of his heart like a malicious miner. He never thought he would be a captive to nostalgia, but he feels bound by it as he drives down the orange and red leaf littered road. 

He’s got an audiobook in, something about the magical properties of mushrooms in the LA area and he thinks that maybe he’ll make a post about it. He’s been cataloging a lot lately, like if he writes it down, sends it through the internet, he’ll still be alive. It’s weird. He had craved a sense of anonymity for so long. But after years of only being a person when there was a product attached to his name, he feels directionless. 

He pulls up to the hotel, smiling a bit at the yellowing vinyl on the side of the building and walks into the dimly lit lobby. The person working the desk is a worn out looking middle aged woman, but she smiles sweetly like she genuinely hopes he’s having a nice day and gets him checked in. 

“Um, there’s someone else who’s going to grab a key from you,” Gerard tells her, and he tries not to fidget too much. 

Her smile shifts to understanding and she nods. “I got his key here for when he checks in, honey,” she tells him, patting her hand on top of his before handing him his own key card. 

“Thanks,” he says softly, turning the key card in his hands for a moment, then turns to walk down the hall to where his room is printed on the key card. 

Gerard steps into the hotel room and winces at how stale it smells. He supposes that’s what he gets for choosing the cheapest hotel he could find three towns over from where he grew up. Some place where he wouldn’t be recognized, especially with his red hair dyed an unfortunate combination of brown and blonde. He knows he looks ridiculous, the blond strands poking out by his ears, but he’s still hanging on to those last strands of rebellion. Clinging to them because he felt like there was nothing to grab onto anymore. 

It had been his decision, yeah. Sorta. He still thinks that everyone was ready for the end, needed the end. He could see it in their faces when they played, the hard look of  _ this doesn’t feel like it used to _ , that sour feeling building up in his stomach and fermenting with the beer he had been drinking again to the point that he couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t eat. Sing. Talk. Love. He felt like he was withering away into nothing but the whispered ideas he used to have. Thought that maybe if he allowed his demise, he’d scatter into cool autumn nights over kids who were discovering their favorite band for the first time, scrunched in hand-me-down cars with lit cigarette cherries illuminating their wondrous smiles. 

He  _ misses _ that feeling. 

It makes him think of Black Parade for some reason. They weren’t all that young, having been on the road enough to have it age them past their years, but still naive enough to not know the pain that they would endure in the years to come. Frank would whisper against Gerard’s ear inside the Paramour, press a sweet kiss to his temple even after Gerard had been irritable all day and ask him to take a drive with him. 

And they would squeeze into Frank’s dusty Toyota parked outside the mansion, looking so out of place but perfect at the same time. Because they had started making it pretty big at that point. He could have bought a house if he wanted to, Mikey kept buying boots that needed more closet space than Gerard’s ever owned. And it felt so weird to have money like that. To be able to just buy whatever he wanted, terrified him a little that he didn’t touch it. He indulged into his impulses, sure, like that jacket the guys always made fun of. 

But it had been nice to have a reminder of where they came from, in the form of something tangible that he and Frank could escape to. Frank would drive down deserted roads with the windows down, letting the cool, darkened early morning kiss Gerard’s cheeks until they turned pink and his nose started to run. They wouldn’t talk while they were driving, just listened to the music that they naturally took turns putting on. It was like a time machine almost, moving so fast that their present blurred past them. Listening to only music from their youth, inhaling the stale stains of coffee and the fresh waves of cigarette smoke--Gerard was cocooned in safety. 

In there they didn’t have to worry about a record that was supposed to top their last one. Didn’t have to think about the way Mikey was looking worse and worse or how even Ray was starting to snap under the pressure. How Bob stopped talking and how the calls from the people they had grown up with stopped all together. Because they were different. Had grown up. Too fast, in Gerard’s opinion. It was to the point where sometimes he forgot how old he really was. 

There’s a click of a mechanical noise and Gerard realizes he’s still just standing in the middle of the room with the lights off. 

And that’s how Frank finds him. 

“Jesus Fucking Christ,” Frank bites out as he turns on the lights and jumps when he sees Gerard standing just a few feet from him.

“Sorry,” Gerard grins, sheepishly. 

Frank tosses a duffle bag to the side and shuts the door, rolling his eyes. “Still a creepy vampire.”

Gerard’s heart stops at the fond look that Frank’s wearing. He had been preparing himself for yelling. For Frank to hate him, spit out all the dirty names he had stored for Gerard in the back of his mind where he kept the pain Gerard caused. He expected Frank to come in and demand a better explanation, to tell him why he broke the band up over a phone call instead of having the balls to tell him to his face. He even had prepared for Frank to not show up at all, to spend the night alone in an empty hotel room and then crawl back to the airport without even visiting his parents like he had planned on doing. 

Frank’s searching his expression too, Gerard feels his eyes taking inventory of everything he hasn’t seen in the last year or so. His lips quirk up a bit at the hair and Gerard knows he’ll hear about it later, but Frank just licks his lips and whispers, “C’mere.”

Gerard goes easily and the first brush of Frank’s knuckles to Gerard’s cheekbone has his eyes fluttering shut. He lets out a breathy exhale as Frank continues the caress down to his jaw where he lets his autumn chilled skin sweep back and forth against the bone. He knows that his bone structure isn’t as pronounced as it was the last time they saw each other, and it makes his stomach clench when he feels Frank’s chapped lips press against his rounding cheeks. “There you are.”

Gerard can’t take it then, and moves back just enough to open his eyes and cup the back of Frank’s skull with his hand before kissing him. He tastes a little like candy corn and Gerard thinks it must be from the kids. It tears that wound in his heart farther, the idea of him going to the supermarket with his kids and buying Halloween candy, only to open it once they got home before the Trick-or-Treaters got a chance. 

Frank opens his mouth to him though, and Gerard sucks at the sweetness on his tongue. And it’s slow at first, soft sucks and flicks of their tongues until they’ve familiarized themselves with each other again. Then it’s ravenous. Violent almost, puffs of air punching out of their nostrils and landing blows on their faces. Teeth scraping lips and clinking together. The sweetness is slipping under something metallic, and Gerard feels a stinging in the middle of his bottom lip. Frank pulls back to lick at it, soothe it before continuing his onslaught and pushing Gerard back towards the bed. 

Gerard wants them to slow down. Wants to take his time to unwrap Frank like a present he’s been waiting all year for, but Frank won’t let him. And he wonders if it’s desire so deep it can’t wait, or some sort of power play of not letting Gerard do what he wants. Either way, he’s at Frank’s mercy. He’s too tired to fight anymore. Too enamored to want to. 

So, he lets Frank shove his sweater up his stomach, licking a thick strip up the revealed flesh until he’s got the fabric bunched around Gerard’s neck, but his arms get tangled in the process. Frank lets out a laugh that gets stuck in his nose, and helps Gerard free his arms then slips the sweater over his head. He looks down at Gerard, his lips red and he sees a little peak of darkened liquid on the corner of his mouth where his teeth caught him. 

Gerard reaches up to press his thumb there and Frank shudders a little. “I’m sorry I hurt you,” he whispers, and can see in Frank’s eyes that he knows Gerard doesn’t just mean for biting his lip.

Frank folds his hand over Gerard’s and says, “I know.”

Gerard holds his gaze for a moment before freeing his hand and sliding it down to the hem of Frank’s shirt. “Catch up.”

Frank grins and pulls his shirt up, letting Gerard glance over the few tattoos he’s gotten since Gerard’s seen him. He leans in and licks across the darker ink, trails kisses over to his nipples and takes one into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it before scraping it with his teeth. His arms wrap around Frank and keep him still when he bucks, trying to pull away or closer. Gerard keeps him from having to choose and holds him steady as he moves to the other nipple. 

Frank moans and moves his hips forward, rocking himself against Gerard’s thigh and Gerard grins around his red and spit shinny nipple. As soon as his arms loosen around Frank, Frank pushes Gerard flat against the mattress and slides off him to unbuckle his jeans and pull them off. They’re not the skinny jeans he used to have to peel off Gerard after shows, but he’s still not wearing underwear. “Presumptuous,” Frank scolds playfully. 

“Hardly,” Gerard breathes out, and he’s got a better witty reply on his lips but it gets lost in a gasp that Frank pulls out of him when he wraps his lips around his cock, swallowing him fast without any teasing or warning. Frank presses his hands down on Gerard’s hips, anchoring him against the sheets before starting to slide his mouth up him, licking around the head of his cock before sinking back down and moaning when he hits the back of Frank’s throat. 

“Frankie, fuck,  _ fuck _ , I--”

Frank doesn’t let up, doesn’t speed up either, just keeps his controlled pace that is so starkly different from the frenzy they had felt when they tumbled onto this bed. Gerard feels the heat starting to bloom in his thighs and he’s just not ready for this to be over yet, he starts pleading with Frank, starts whining when the heat intensifies and he can feel his limbs growing heavy. “Frank I don’t,” he whimpers, but Frank doesn’t listen to him, just takes him back down his throat and swallows. 

Gerard bucks up, or tries to, straining against Frank’s punishing hold. He’s definitely going to have bruises there and he’s too far gone to really care about what an issue that might be later. He wants them. Wants to be marked by Frank, to have a reminder that they still have this. Even if it’s all they get, they have something. And Gerard will take anything. 

Frank lets go of Gerard’s hips to cup his balls, squeezing gently in time with the rhythm he’s set with his mouth. Gerard’s given up hope of lasting anymore, being driven completely by instinct now and lets his hips snap forward. 

Frank moans and meets Gerard’s thrusts, slipping his fingers down to Gerard’s entrance and he doesn’t even apply any pressure before Gerard is crying out and coming down Frank’s throat. Frank swallows around him, pulling off and pressing soft kisses to the inside of his thighs while Gerard lets the last of the aftershocks rip through him. 

When Gerard’s thoughts start forming again in his mind, he breathes out, “Fuck.”

Frank giggles against his thigh, “Yeah?”

Gerard raises himself up on his elbows and quirks a lazy brow at him. “I’m a little pissed at you. I wasn’t ready to come yet.”

Frank’s giggles darken into a smug chuckle and he bites at the tender flesh on the inside of Gerard’s thigh. “Who says I’m done with you?”

Gerard looks down at where he’s soft. “Sorry to be the one to break it to you, babe, but I can’t exactly get it up as quick as I used to.”

Frank hooks Gerard’s legs over his shoulders and mutters, “Challenge accepted,” before Gerard feels his tongue press intently where his fingers had been. 

“Fuck,” Gerard groans, his voice rumbling out of his throat like he has no control over it. And maybe he doesn’t. Whenever he’s like this, he just feels like his body is under Frank’s brain. His heart and touch. 

Usually they do this the other way around, but Gerard loves it when they switch. He loves being the one to give to Frank, to open up to him. Loves Frank holding him down and having his way with him, focusing all his attention and pent up energy on him. He feels like a vessel for Frank, like he can take all the hurt and anger, as well as the love. All of it. It’s always all with Frank and he’s content to drown in it. 

He whines when he feels Frank’s tongue move away. 

“Oh hush,” Frank grins, then there’s Frank’s finger, sliding in and he’s so relaxed from coming already that it sinks in with no resistance. Gerard collapses onto his back, tossing his arms over his face and mewls at the way Frank slips a second finger in and scissors them, stretching him slowly. “Ok, baby?”

“So good,” Gerard confirms breathlessly. 

Frank presses a kiss to Gerard’s stomach. “Good, I’m just getting started.”

Gerard is almost convinced he’s dreaming when he feels himself getting hard again, swelling against his stomach and stirring that heat back in his thighs and lower belly. “Fuck, Frankie.”

Frank hums and nuzzles at his balls before he presses a third finger in, thrusting slowly in and out before pressing up against Gerard’s prostate. He shouts out and drops his arms so he can grip Frank’s hair. Frank’s always been too good at this, always pays so much attention and takes his time pressing the pads of his fingertips against him there, rubbing soft circles in a maddening pace. He can feel a bead of precome slip out of his cock and he can’t believe he’s ready to go again, is dizzy with it and he can hear himself begging again but he doesn’t know why. 

He whines when Frank’s fingers disappear and Frank moves so that he’s over him, kissing him and licking into his mouth to soothe the distressing sounds leaking out of him. “Shh,” Frank whispers against his mouth, reaching down to line himself up against Gerard. 

“Frank, Frank, you have--” then he sighs and shudders when he feels Frank press slowly, but firmly into him. 

“I’ve got you, Gee,” Frank murmurs, “I always have you.”

Gerard nods even though he knows it’s not true. He wants it to be true. Wants it to exist outside of hotel rooms. He wants it so badly he would burn the world for it, and that scares him. He’s terrified of how strongly he loves this man. 

“Hey,” Frank whispers, holding himself still above Gerard. He cups Gerard’s chin and tilts it up so that Frank can kiss him soft and sweet. “You’re mine,” he whispers and Gerard nods, “So give me your full attention right now.”

Gerard feels his heart clench and he nods quickly, wrapping his arms around Frank’s neck and pulling him down for another kiss. Frank kisses back, thrusting his tongue into Gerard’s mouth before rocking his hips forward again. Gerard anchors his thighs against Frank’s hips and the adjustment lets Frank slide in deeper and they both moan at the feeling. Gerard feels so full, like he’s going to combust around Frank and take him in the explosion, going to disintegrate them into smithereens and maybe then they can flutter to different parts of Jersey again. Wonder directionless because they want to and not because they don’t know what they’re doing anymore. 

Every drag of Frank’s cock hits his oversensitive prostate, and Frank knows it. Frank’s a little malicious in bed in all the best ways and the little smile on his face lets Gerard know he’s not done pulling Gerard apart tonight. But Gerard can also see the way his hair is pressed damply to his forehead, how his smile slips into moans and his eyes screw tight. His hips are moving more erratically and he knows that Frank wants to bring Gerard over the edge again, but Gerard is perfectly content to watch Frank work himself there. To watch him lose the control he was trying to have over tonight.

Frank clenches his teeth and pulls out. And before Gerard gets a chance to complain, he rolls onto his back and drags Gerard with him. Gerard gets with the program and straddles him before lining Frank up and sinking down on him. 

“Fuck,” Frank bites out, gripping Gerard’s hips again and lifting his up to meet Gerard’s rhythm. “Come on, baby.”

Gerard can feel the heat threatening to ignite him in flames, feels his thighs scream in protest and his knees whine under the awkward angle he’s folded himself into. “Can’t,” he whimpers, shaking his head and his dick twitches like it has something to say on the issue. “Touch me,” he begs, because that’ll put him over. He’s stretched perfectly, and everytime he sinks down Frank holds his hips still, long enough to grind against his prostate before he’ll let him pull back up. 

Frank tangles his fingers into Gerard’s hair and pulls him down for a dirty kiss. It’s wet and messy, his lips sliding over Gerard’s and onto his chin without any care. “Yes you can,” he demands, nipping at Gerard’s damp skin, “I know you can. I know this body, Gee, fuck, I  _ know _ you.”

And that. That’s what sends him over, it’s what spreads the fire inside him until he thinks his bones will scorch and he’ll be nothing but a molten memory of someone who loved and was loved too intensely. 

He feels Frank buck up erratically and then squeeze his hips and groan loudly, his head arched back into the white pillows, so contradictory to his red, flushed face. Gerard is shaking but he holds himself up on his elbow so he can cup Frank’s cheek and stroke his thumb into the sweat while Frank trembles. “Love you,” he whispers, “so much.”

Frank’s body goes slack and he sinks into the mattress, his agape mouth stretching into a sloppy smile. Gerard hums a gentle laugh when Frank opens his eyes and they’re sparkling. “Love you,” Frank answers back. 

Gerard rolls off and onto the pillow next to Frank, still panting at the ceiling. He feels Frank move and then his sweater is getting wiped across his stomach. Gerard winces. “Dude, that was my only shirt.”

Frank snorts. “Why didn’t you pack a bag?”

Because if he packed a bag, Gerard’s not entirely sure he wouldn’t pack all his belongings and stay in Jersey with Frank. “Forgot.”

Frank eyes him and nods. “Uh huh.”

Gerard looks over and watches Frank trace lazily up and down his own stomach and Gerard tries not to focus on the fact that he’s not wearing his wedding ring. His own is tucked away in his glove box of the rental car. It probably doesn’t mean anything more than Frank not wanting to shatter the illusion. 

“You going to talk about it?” Frank asks quietly. 

So much for illusion. 

Gerard stares hard at the ceiling, feeling cold but not wanting to get up and get dressed either. He was always running from Frank, always slipping out of bed when things got too difficult. Went running back to the life he carefully built that didn’t include him anymore, and he just didn’t understand why anymore. And maybe not having the band anymore is really shaking him up. It was easy, well not  _ easy _ , it was doable, not being together with Frank. Because he still had something with him that no one else could touch. He still had those nights under stage lights where all their secrets were illuminated. Could dance against him and feel alive, like the blood in his body still had a purpose because his heart still had a reason to beat. 

Without it though? Gerard felt so lost. And he was trying to fill that void, he started writing and making music. He tried the different meditation tapes that Grant gave him. Tried different therapists. But he still felt that void in his chest. He still woke up in a bed that was too big. He craved his bunk on the bus, missed being able to hold his hand out and feel Frank’s fingers find his and lace them together. 

But the hotel rooms and stages and buses didn’t soothe the turmoil in his mind. The one he never addressed and just fed stories to keep it busy. Stories of the patient and his regrets. Stories of a group of rebels in a desert. He fed it lie after lie, telling himself he was fine. He was an artist meant to feel his art. That’s all it was. It was the patient's pain, regrets, despair, and sadness. It was Party Poison’s anger, rebellion, frustration, and fight. Not his. They weren’t him. 

Except that was part of the problem, wasn’t it? The fact that when he looked in the mirror, he didn’t even know who he was anymore. Who was the man that Lyn-Z married, because he thought he threw those sketches away? He couldn’t see past the characters anymore he had been playing for so long. He couldn’t even see the boy that had stood in the crowd with Mikey at a Smashing Pumpkins concert, couldn’t see the dream anymore; it was so dim underneath all the darkness under Gerard’s eyes. 

And that’s ultimately why he had pulled the plug. Because not seeing the point was a scary place to be. 

Gerard sat up and tugged at his hair. 

Frank sat up and hooked his chin over Gerard’s shoulder, sliding his hand up Gerard’s chest and resting it over his heart. “You’re not going to run this time.”

Gerard took a deep breath, because Frank deserved answers.

Except he didn’t know what to tell him that would justify all the hurt. Didn’t know what to tell him about Lyn-Z or ending the band. Couldn’t find the words to show him the jumbled mess of his mind and how those all seemed like things he needed to do at the time and

“Jesus, Gee,” Frank breathes, getting off the bed.

Gerard frowns as he watches Frank get dressed, but he’s not leaving. He sorts through the papers on the desk and finds a take out menu and Gerard smiles a little because at least that feels familiar. He watches Frank scan the menu then dial for room service and grins when Frank just orders their usual orders of fries. 

“You didn’t pack a bag,” Frank says softly when he hangs up, peering over to where his own bag is sitting alone by the door. “I don’t know if that means you’re going to leave in the middle of the night or if you’re not planning on going back home.”

“I’d have to go back home eventually,” Gerard says.  _ To sign divorce papers _ linger in the air, but neither of them say it. Because Gerard hasn’t really decided yet and Frank can see that. 

“Would it happen like that?” Frank whispers, “Just like that?”

Gerard waits until Frank turns to look back at him and he licks his lips, still tasting the candy. “I don’t know.”

Frank nods. “What happened to us destroying each other?”

“Maybe I’m being self-destructive,” Gerard challenges, and he means it to be playful but it comes out hoarse. 

Frank shakes his head and pulls out the chair that’s at the desk, and Gerard can understand why he’d want space between them. They’re finally getting somewhere. “I won’t be something that you use to hurt yourself. Not again.”

“You already are,” Gerard breathes, “This. Right here? The hotels and lies and middle of the night phone calls? It’s already--”

“Then why the fuck did you fly across the country to see me?” Frank demands. 

“I don’t…” Gerard trails off, fingers itching to hang onto a cigarette or something. 

“Bullshit,” Frank growls, “You know.”

Gerard gets up and starts to get dressed, but frowns when he realizes his sweater is sticky so he goes through Frank’s bag and finds a sweatshirt. Frank doesn’t say anything through it, waiting to see if he’ll explain himself. 

When he doesn’t, Frank stands up and walks over to Gerard. Gerard backs up against the wall, eyeing him carefully. 

“Are you going to just keep me a secret?” Frank whispers, taking his sweatshirt’s hem in his fingers, “Because we’re sorta shit at keeping secrets. Your brother knows.”

“Mikey’s not going to tell anyone,” Gerard murmurs. 

Frank shakes his head. “Don’t you get sick of it?”

Gerard nods and he looks down to where Frank’s hands are gripping his sweatshirt. “But I don’t know what else to do, Frankie. I’m so scared of making another bad choice.”

Frank’s breath hitches and he knows that they’re not going to talk about the band. Even though they need to, even though Frank is buzzing in his skin to get whatever it is on his mind out there in the open. “This is really it, isn’t it?” Frank whispers. 

Gerard knows what he’s asking. That they can’t keep doing this, especially now that they don’t have a band to hide under. It’s just them out there in the open now, playing with fire and sooner or later they’re going to set everything ablaze. 

He nods and knows that Frank can feel it even though he’s still looking at the sweatshirt’s hem. Frank tugs at the hem and starts walking backwards towards the bathroom. Gerard grins and he ignores how it’s wavering under the heaviness of finality. 

Frank waits until they're in the bathroom to pull Gerard’s sweatshirt off and sets it carefully on the sink before he turns to the tub and turns the water on. Gerard starts to undress all the way while Frank pours little bottles of soap under the running water. Gerard kicks off his jeans and steps into the tub even though it’s not filled up yet. He sits back, jumping a little at the cold porcelain against his back 

Frank undresses and turns off the tap just before it spills over, but it does anyway when Frank sinks in. Gerard laughs a little and pulls Frank’s back against his chest, resting his chin against his shoulder. 

The bathroom is quiet except for their soft breathing and the slosh of water whenever one of them moves their legs. But there’s nothing to distract Gerard and he can’t help his thoughts from slipping into made up futures where he’s sitting in a recliner next to Frank watching trivia game shows. He wonders if Frank still thinks about that night. If he’s still waiting for Gerard to give him an answer. Wonders if he knows that Gerard sat up that night to write  _ it’s you _ over and over against his skin with his fingertips while he was sleeping.

There’s a knock at their door and Gerard’s brows pinch together until Frank snorts and says, “I forgot we ordered fries.” He watches Frank wrap a towel around his waist and listens to him get the door. He grins and tilts his head when Frank comes back in with the fries. He watches him drop his towel then step back into the tub, straddling Gerard and then holding the plate with him in the tub. 

Gerard laughs and it’s easy. The rest of the night is easy now that they’ve both agreed that this was it. And they don’t talk about it, knowing that they’ll make the choice in the morning. Instead, Frank feeds Gerard fries and kisses salt and suds off his chin. They grin and laugh in between trading stories about stupid shit their kids keep doing or what their different friend groups are up to. Frank shoves fries into Gerard’s mouth when he tries to argue that West Coast coffee is better than East Coast coffee and at one point they’re arguing so much about Frank being the only authentic one for not giving into the LA craze that the fries dump into the tub. 

They erupt into laughter and Gerard scoops up the soggy fries and squishes them against Frank’s cheek. And it just turns into a water logged food fight until they’re breathless with laughter and kisses, until their fingers start to intwine and the desperation starts to sink in. 

And when the water turns cold, they make their way to bed and dampen the sheets as Gerard spreads Frank out and opens him up with his mouth. He’s unhurried while bringing them both to the edge this time, teetering them back and forth until Frank pins Gerard down and shoves them over. 

They try to stay awake, not wanting to sleep the last of the hours they have, but sleep does eventually claim them. 

“Gee,” Frank whispers against Gerard’s ear, and he feels the memory peel his eyes open and stare at his Frank instead of the one that’s echoing in the Paramour. He grins and jiggles keys in front of him. “Want to go for a drive?”

They drive into the hours that aren’t quite night anymore, but aren’t really morning yet either. Gerard lights their cigarettes for them, slipping Frank’s into his lips so that he doesn’t take his hands off the steering wheel and he instructs Gerard on what music to play when it’s his turn. And Gerard looks out the window and smiles at the familiar blur, feels that same safety in the middle of a downpour of nostalgia. 

Because when he’s looking at Frank, he looks young for a moment, like they’re on their way to an Eyeball party. But he sees the soft beginnings of wrinkles around his mouth from all the smiles he’s given over the years and he can’t help but lean over and kiss him. Frank hums in appreciation and tries to kiss back without taking his eyes off the road. 

Gerard stays pressed close to him, laying his head on his shoulder as he watches the miles click up on his dashboard. And it’s like it’s counting the moments they’ve had and he feels lucky. Lucky to have felt a love like this, because he doesn’t think this happens to everyone. There’s no way everyone out there is as lucky as he is to have a Frank. But he tears his eyes away from the dash to look up at Frank, at the way his eyes are hardened too. 

Because this could be the last ride.

And it leaves him breathless, so much so that when he opens his mouth to tell Frank, “it’s you”, nothing comes out. 

And he doesn’t try again. 

**Author's Note:**

> I always think that I'm done with this series, but I can't seem to let it go just yet. 
> 
> You can find me on [tumblr](https://throwupsparkles.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/throwupsparkle).


End file.
